


Blue Black

by engels



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Rough Sex, Violence, mafia!au, tyler is a hitman sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-12 13:54:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7937227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engels/pseuds/engels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's all fun and games, except for when it's not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shake My Hand

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Ye-yes.” Josh tucked the phone into his shoulder with one hand, leaning against the bar. “Ye-no. No, I’m not.” Pressing the phone to his ear again, he bent to swipe a glass from a lower shelf, grabbing two bottles by the neck on his way back up. 

The man continued into his ear as Josh dropped a couple ice cubes into his glass with a delicate _plink_. “I’m not drinking on the job.” He repeated indignantly, barely paying attention to how much vodka he filled his glass with before topping it off with a couple sloppy sprays of soda. “It’s just seltzer. Yeah.” He squeezed a lemon wedge into his drink before dropping it in. “With lemon.”

He dropped the bottle back into the well, crudely giving the bar top a once-over with a rag before dropping it too. “Yeah? If he’s so concerned then why don’t you tell him to call me himself?” Josh demanded. He knew it was fruitless, but if pushing around his father’s assistant over the phone helped him feel better, then no one was going to stop him.

“I already did that. I already-yeah-I already took care of that.” Josh leaned full over the bar top, stretching for a clipboard at the end before snagging it and sliding it over. “Yeah, did that. Did that too. Yep. Yeah, yep.” He tapped down the list as the voice prattled off his duties. Whether or not they were actually crossed out didn’t matter; Josh just wanted this conversation to be over. He took a sip from his glass and sucked it through his teeth, smacking his lips.

“I did it all, okay? Tell him it’s taken care of,” Josh considered “accidentally” dropping his phone into his glass, watching the screen flicker out and hearing the voice garble and fade. He’d probably stir it with a cherry on a stick. 

Unfortunately, he knew better. If he was lucky, his father would buy what Josh was selling him and get his assistants to leave him alone, and if he was _very_ lucky, he would see through his son’s bold-faced lies, send one of his goons to check on him in person, and then take the lounge back from Josh’s open, waiting hands. 

Unfortunately, Josh really did know better. Unfortunately, his father had _faith_ in him. Maybe. Maybe he just needed him out of the way.

It took him a moment to register that the voice was still telling him something, but Josh was beyond the point of listening. Glancing around the dimly-lit and completely empty room, Josh tossed back the rest of his drink, grimaced, and said, “Listen, people are starting to come in, I gotta go.” 

.oOo.

It was a solid hour before the first person actually did come in, two before drinks were flowing freely, but only half an hour before Josh disappeared into the back room, leaving his bartender to handle the patrons single-handedly. “I have business to attend to, don’t bother me,” Josh had lied to him over his shoulder as he slipped away, taking a bottle from the shelf with him for good measure.

Now, halfway through the night and the bottle, with the taste of bourbon on his tongue, Josh decided he’d earned a break. He emerged from the back room, replacing the bottle on the shelf and hopping onto an empty stool near the end of the bar. Withdrawing his phone from his pocket, Josh signaled the bartender, who scowled and quickly rolled his eyes before pouring Josh another drink nonetheless.

He only managed a few scrolls down his feed before confronting the stranger a couple stools down from him, who had been shooting him glances from the corner of his eye for the last ten minutes. “What are you looking at?” Josh barked.

Turning his head slightly but not his body, the stranger looked him over coolly before sipping from his own glass. “Nothing. Just saw you put the Jack back on the shelf.” 

Josh resented whatever implication was being made here. “Yeah, well, I own the place, so.” He shrugged off the end of his sentence with a gulp from his own drink.

The stranger chuckled. “Sure you do. It’s none of my business anyway.” Before Josh had a chance to retort, the stranger added, “At least you could have better taste.” 

Josh couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He tucked his phone into his pocket and turned on his stool, squinting, brows furrowed, mouth open slightly in an incredulous grin. Who the hell was this guy? “Like I said, I own the place. I can have as bad a taste as I want. What are you drinking then, since you care so much about mine?”

The stranger picked his glass up from the rim and gave it a slight swirl before nodding in the direction of a bottle on the display shelf. “Blue Label.” 

Josh scoffed into his glass. Fine, it was expensive, but this game was multiplayer. He beckoned for the bartender again. “Another round here, give me a scotch, Blue Label, one for me and one for my, uh-” Josh turned his head toward the stranger again, smiling a toothy smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he chewed the name over in his mouth with extra relish, “-new friend.”

The stranger gave a curt nod to the bartender when he returned with their drinks, setting each down before them. Josh took his in hand and swiveled on his stool again, facing the stranger, who disregarded him, glancing at his watch then over Josh’s shoulder. “What brings you here, besides to show off?”

The stranger snorted into his glass. “ _What brings you here?_ ” He met Josh’s eyes from the corner of his own. “And I thought cliches were dead.”

Rolling his eyes and cutting whatever tethers compelled him to try in the first place, Josh turned back to face forward on his stool, resting his elbow on the bar and bringing his glass to his lips. “Whatever.” 

Brief silence passed between them and Josh almost took his phone out again before the stranger answered, “I’m meeting someone.” 

“Hm. Didn’t see anyone with you.” 

The stranger didn’t respond, sipping quietly from his glass, eyes darting from his watch to the same spot over Josh’s shoulder again as Josh scanned the room, looking for anyone who may be looking for someone else. “Guess it’s just us until they get here.” He extended a hand. “Josh.”

He let his hand hover for a couple seconds, stomach tightening as he realized the stranger was not going to shake it. However, despite his obvious hesitation, the stranger took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Tyler.” 

“Tyler.” Josh repeated, glad to put a name to the face. The face, which had been partially obfuscated in the low purple lighting the entire time, except for when Josh noticed the glint of the str-Tyler’s eye whites as he, for the third time, glanced at his watch, then up at something over Josh’s shoulder.

“So,” Josh tried to bridle the conversation once more, drawing Tyler’s eyes back on him. “Sorry you got stood up.” 

Tyler, who had seemed barely present, suddenly sharpened his gaze into Josh’s eyes as his own narrowed. “I didn’t get stood up.” 

Josh shrugged, taking another sip from his almost-forgotten glass. “Course not.” Denial was a wonderful thing, and Josh, ever-merciful, would allow Tyler to live in his fantasy bubble for as long as there were still people in the bar. Which, admittedly, didn’t seem like very long; it was clearly later than Josh had initially thought, and patronage had decreased from a flow to a soft trickle.

“So what do you do?” Josh asked, turning back to Tyler. He watched Tyler look at his watch, then behind him for the fourth time and swore his next question was going to be _“what the hell?”_ before Tyler answered.

“I work in, uh, freelance-” He replied distractedly as he stared straight over Josh’s shoulder, eyes focused on something in the distance and Josh just about lost his patience, moving to turn around in his stool to see what Tyler was looking at before Tyler swiftly stood to his feet. Josh stared at Tyler’s face then down to his hands, where he nimbly buttoned his jacket. 

“Ah,” Josh commented, turning back to face the bar as he realized that Tyler’s date must have finally arrived and willed away the tiniest twinge of disappointment.

His moment of clarity ended abruptly, however, when instead of greeting the surely very pretty girl that was about to walk up, Tyler announced, “I’m going to use the restroom.” He set his glass down with a heavy thunk, and strode past Josh’s shoulder.

A minute passed, then five, then ten, and Josh flipped between wondering whether Tyler had gotten cold feet and clambered out the bathroom window, or if he’d run into his date on the way back and was already enjoying her company. When thirty minutes passed and Tyler still hadn’t returned after last call, Josh was ready to assume to latter. Or the former, really; he didn’t know him that well.

Finally, unexpectedly, Tyler passed Josh again, reclaiming his seat at the bar. Josh swiveled his head to look at him when he walked by, smirking. 

Tyler sat back down, finishing his drink. Josh ended the pregnant silence with another remark, murmured into his own glass, “Didn’t go well?”

Tyler let out a short laugh in disbelief. “I told you, I-” he gave up, shaking off his excuse with a shrug. “Whatever.” 

Josh adopted what he thought was a sympathetic look, but it wasn’t easy; the alcohol clouded his judgment a little, and his total lack of sympathy for Tyler’s misfortune clouded it a lot. In fact, he took a salacious bit of pleasure in knowing that this man, for all his good looks and expensive tastes, was to be ending the night dateless. This man, that Josh had known for a solid hour.

When the last patron shuffled out of the lounge, Josh watched Tyler run one hand through his hair and straighten his collar and figured he was soon to follow. Seizing the opportunity to get one more quip in edgewise, just for the fun of it, Josh coyly remarked, “At least you got to spend the night with me.” 

Tyler looked uncharacteristically surprised, his eyebrows shooting upward for a split second before falling back to furrowed. He leaned ever-so-slightly forward, barely perceptible, given away only by how Josh‘s heart sped up the tiniest bit. “Did I?”

Josh cocked an eyebrow. “Why, you want to?” His mouth felt disconnected from his body, lips forming words his brain didn’t have the privilege to proofread. 

Tyler pressed his mouth into a thin-lipped almost-half-smile, surveying Josh in silence for a moment as if sizing him up, before turning away. Before Tyler could refuse him, and Josh knew he was about to, he sweetened the deal. 

“C’mon,” he coaxed. “Why waste the night just ‘cause you got stood up?” 

Tyler’s excuse died in his throat as he considered, toying with the rim of his empty glass. He traced his fingers around the edge lightly. “Got a back room?” 

.oOo.

“J-jesus you’re tight,” Tyler gritted out, thumb digging into Josh’s skin where he held his hip. His other hand braced flat against the small of Josh’s back as Tyler hunched his shoulders to watch where his cock sank into Josh’s body. 

Josh clenched his abs and his fists around the edge of the couch cushion when he felt thighs hit the back of his own. Forcing his eyes open, he craned his neck to look over his shoulder at Tyler, who remained still inside him, buried to the hilt, and panting. Out of pure devilish instinct, Josh tightened around Tyler, feeling his stomach sear when Tyler let out a choked groan.

Finally, finally Tyler began to move. It was not as much of a thrust as it was a deep grind; Tyler kept their hips connected, pushing into Josh with a strength his lean body did not immediately give away. Josh purred at the feeling, sinking from his hands to his elbows, melting into the cushion. 

“How does-” Tyler punctuated his question by repositioning himself, inching his knees forward and leaning further over Josh’s back. He never compromised his rhythm, ever slow, ever steady. “- _that_ feel, baby?” 

As soon as he asked, Tyler thrust deeply in and upwards, dragging slowly on the upstroke, driving hard on the down. Delicious friction against his prostate tore a moan from Josh’s throat as Tyler thrust into him, sending licks of pleasure into the pit of his abdomen and bringing his blood to a rolling boil. “ _Good_ , so good, I-” He gasped, before sinking his teeth into the meat of his arm to muffle himself, face contorting in pleasure. 

Tyler released a heavy moan, losing some of his composure as his hips began to speed up. His hand slid generously down from the small of Josh’s back over the middle, then over his shoulders, feeling firm, hot muscle under his palm before settling at the back of Josh’s neck. Fingers tightened as Tyler held him down, allowing Josh to turn his head just enough to pull in breath after ragged breath as his cheek sank into the couch cushion. 

Tyler’s head hung low, groans dropping from his open mouth and sinking into Josh’s spine. He built to a punishing rhythm, using his one hand on Josh’s hip as leverage to pull him back with every deep, purposeful thrust. Josh fleetingly wondered whether he’d be covered in fiber burns from how hard he was being forced into the couch before they were finished, but when Tyler let out a hoarse moan and dropped to cover Josh’s frame entirely with his own, chest to back, Josh thought no more.

Goosebumps prickled over Josh’s skin at Tyler’s harsh panting against his ear, then when he felt hot breath and teeth play over the juncture of his shoulder and neck. He whimpered, arousal coming to a breaking point, and unclenched his hand from the couch to wind underneath. 

Tyler’s hand closed over his own, forcing Josh to still his motions on his own dripping cock. “Let me,” he murmured into his ear, and Josh was helpless but to comply, dropping his hand limply onto the couch before sliding it back up to grab a fistful of Tyler’s hair behind him instead.

Josh felt a warm, not-so-gentle hand close around his cock and begin to stroke, catching the precum that beaded from the head to slick the way down. Josh was capable of little else apart from strangled whimpers as Tyler stroked him in tandem with his own thrusts, save for the begging. Josh always considered himself above begging, but at this point he’d have fallen to his knees for Tyler, had he not already been exactly there twenty minutes ago. 

“Please, _god_ , I’m, _ah_ -almost-” Mercifully, Tyler quickened his pace, thumbing over the head, biting into Josh’s shoulder and licking over the marks, and Josh flew past ‘almost’ straight to, “I’m, _fuck_ , I-I’m cumming.”

Josh’s eyes clenched shut as he felt himself release over Tyler’s knuckles and the couch, barely noticing Tyler speed up his thrusts until he winced from oversensitivity. Thankfully, it took only moment before Tyler’s arms wound around his chest, drawing him in tight as he buried his face in the back of Josh’s neck with a shuddering moan and came inside him.

Josh marinated in the feeling of Tyler’s warm chest pressed against his back for as long as it lasted, which wasn’t long at all. As soon as he could see straight, Tyler withdrew, the couch creaking as he stood up and peeled the condom off. 

Josh collapsed, boneless, onto the couch, ignoring the mess as shifted comfortably onto his side. Eyelids heavy and wanting to crash, Josh watched Tyler pull his shirt on, buttoning it up. He yawned. “Where’s the fire?”

Pausing at his collar, Tyler gave a derisive laugh. “Why, do you want to cuddle?”

Anger tinged with embarrassment spiked through Josh’s gut. “No,” he spat defensively. “Just asking what the big rush is.”

Tyler pulled his jacket over his shoulders, slender fingers working on the cufflinks. He approached where Josh lay, bending over him, and for a moment Josh thought he was going to kiss him before Tyler straightened again, holding the tie he’d retrieved from the back of the couch. “I told you, I’m meeting someone.” He said, draping the tie around his collar.

Josh snorted in amazement, rolling his eyes at the layers of denial this man must be living under. “Seriously? Even after-” A noise from the lounge floor cut him off, the sound of the main door opening and several voices sounding around the (supposedly) empty bar taking him off guard.

One voice in particular, booming and distinct, caught Josh’s ear. He blanched, leaping off the couch and yanking up his boxers and pants as quickly as his hands would allow. “That’s my father,” Josh warned Tyler in a hurried whisper, “You have to go.” 

Tyler wasn’t listening, straightening his mussed hair in his reflection in a glass wall clock. “Did you hear me? You have to leave right now!” Josh grabbed Tyler’s shoulder, immediately recoiling under the scathing look Tyler shot him. 

“Joshua.” The door opened and an older middle-aged man entered, stony-faced and characteristically well-dressed. Josh froze, standing in the middle of the room like a deer. “Your father would like a word.” 

Josh’s throat closed. Had he not noticed Tyler?

Tyler. His father valued reputation over gold, over life, on a good day. On a good day, Josh knew he would do anything to uphold that sacred value; he knew, he’d heard the stories, though he’d been spared from having to see it himself. On a bad day, he’d heard those stories too. When Tyler brushed past him to walk into the lounge, into the lion’s den, Josh wondered what sort of day today was.

Sucking air into his lungs and willing his legs to work, Josh strode into the lounge as well, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He scanned the room, noticing one large, barrel-chested man posted near the door, and another one casually walking behind the bar, examining the various bottles. 

“Son!” His father called to him from a cloth-draped table, sitting easily in the leather booth as he tapped the glass he was holding with a finger. “Why don’t you come join us. Have a drink,” 

He did absolutely not to do any of that. “Sure." Josh stepped onto the carpeted riser, approaching the table. Sick dread bloomed in his stomach as he noticed Tyler at the table as well, across from his father, both watching him with matching unreadable expressions.

“Why don’t you take a seat, Josh.” His father invited, deceptively cordial.

Josh trained his eyes onto his father, only looking away to give Tyler a brief nod, as if he’d only just met him. Tyler returned the nod. “I’d prefer to stand.”

His father’s expression hardened immediately. “Sit.”

“Yes sir.” The leather sank where Josh joined them at the table. 

The smile immediately returned to his father’s face, like pulling on an almost-but-not-quite realistic flesh mask. “You know I’d do anything for you, Joshua.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” 

The pauses between his father’s sentences felt deliberate, and Josh wondered whether he was milling his words over before speaking. “-And I’d do anything for this family.” Another pause. “Wouldn’t you?”

_No._ “Yes.”

Josh’s father stared down at his glass in hand, brows sinking low over an ice-cold countenance. He picked up his glass slightly and set it down again as he spoke. “There are,” pause. “-people,” he spat the word out like it burned his tongue. “-who would rather see me dead. And Josh-” He added quickly, chuckling, “I am used to that. Work-related hazard. But there are _people_ who would see this family destroyed, and that is not something I will allow myself to get used to.”

Josh didn’t know how to respond. He opened his mouth and closed it again, looking for something to fill the silence with before his father continued. 

“I’m branching out, son. I’m trying something-” Pause. Josh felt sweat tingle above his brow. “-different.” 

As if waiting for a cue, Tyler cleared his throat quietly into his fist, before clasping both hands and replacing them on the tabletop. “Joshua, this is Tyler.” Josh’s father nodded toward him, directing Josh’s gaze. “He says the two of you have already met.”

Josh felt, or rather didn’t feel, his heart stop beating. His ribs closed around the last bit of air left in his lungs and Josh was a second away from either apologizing profusely for however much his father knew, or running out the door and just seeing how far he’d get. 

Instead, he didn’t do any of that. Josh extended an arm to shake Tyler’s hand for the second time that evening. His grip was as firm as the first.

“I’m glad,” Josh’s father continued, alleviating a bit of the pressure from Josh’s chest. Not much. “You’ll be working under Tyler’s instruction from now on, he comes highly recommended.”

In the span of ten seconds, Josh cycled through relief, surprise, and confusion, before landing on anger. “I don’t need anyone else here to help me run the lounge. I already have a bartender.”

“Bartender?” His dad laughed once, loudly, sadistically. “Tyler is a hitman.” 

Josh’s fingers went numb under Tyler’s firm shake. For the first time, Tyler smiled.


	2. Guns Don't Kill People, Assumptions Kill People

“I’m not discussing-” Josh rubbed the heel of his thumb over his brow. “-This isn’t a discussion.”

Tyler looked unfazed, still facing Josh from the booth in which he sat, legs spread comfortably. Josh hated how relaxed he looked; even though his father and his cronies had departed and it was only the two of them in the lounge, he felt far from relaxed. 

Surveying Josh through narrowed eyes, Tyler tilted his head slightly before responding. “You’re right, this _isn’t_ a discussion.”

Josh paced the length of the bar, then back up, then made it halfway down the length again before grabbing a bar towel just to occupy his aimless hands. He had no idea what he was doing, or what to do at all. Scratching the back of his neck, Josh closed his eyes and considered for a moment before he slammed the towel down on the bar top decidedly and faced Tyler straight-on. “No, it’s not. You need to leave.” 

Tyler made no motion to get up. In fact, he gave no indication that he was going to move from his spot at the empty table at all, ever. He just tapped the tablecloth with his fingertips, absently tracing shapes into the white linen, watching Josh with an almost bored expression as though waiting for his little mental breakdown to blow over.

It only made Josh angrier. “What are you, deaf? Get the hell out of my bar!” 

Finally, Tyler proved that he wasn’t indeed rooted to the leather when he raised his eyebrows and rose lazily, buttoning back up his blazer. “Fine.” He stepped down from the riser, striding gracefully past the bar where Josh still stood behind it, following Tyler with his eyes as he left. Before he reached the door, however, Tyler paused. “Would you like to tell your father you’re disobeying his direct orders, or should I?”

The reality of his statement sent an unpleasant jolt through Josh’s stomach, but he wouldn’t allow himself to be manipulated. He steeled himself. “Do what you want. Just leave.”

“You weren’t saying that when I was fucking you an hour ago.”

Josh felt rage course through his veins as his face heated up. He felt as though he could spit venom in that moment, but through the strength of god he held himself back, jaw clenching and unclenching.

Tyler gave a non-committal shrug. “I just find it interesting,” he mused, dawdling by the door, taking his sweet time in lifting his coat from the rack and pulling it over his shoulders. “That you’d send me away, without even knowing why I’m here. You don’t have a clue,” he drawled, “-but you think you know enough, you’re confident enough, to make that decision.” 

He gave a bark-like laugh, fastening the last coat button at his throat. “It would almost be admirable, if it wasn’t so stupid.” Josh said nothing. Tyler pulled the door open. “Good night, Josh.”

On second thought. “Wait.” 

Tyler froze, one foot on the stoop. He chewed his smirk and swallowed it. 

“Fine.” Josh conceded. It tasted like vinegar to Josh, but it sounded like honey to Tyler. “Just give me answers. Start with what the hell is going on.”

Tyler had already started to unbutton his coat. “You’ll get them. But first,” Josh did not like the way his eyes glinted with mirth, visible even from across the room. “I’m so glad you stopped me, because I was really curious as to how you were going to deal with the problem in your storeroom.” 

Confused, Josh just stared. “I don’t have a pr-” He cut off his own words, tone hardening. “What did you do in my storeroom.” It was hardly a question, because Josh hardly wanted an answer.

Tyler discarded his coat and breezed past a bewildered Josh into the back hallway, past the bathrooms to the door at the end, leaving Josh to wonder when he had studied the layout of _his_ lounge so well. 

Josh didn’t want to follow, but his legs didn’t care, so he found himself walking down the hallway after Tyler to the door at the end, left slightly ajar. “What th-”

There were things one would expect to see in a bar storeroom, such as the mess of boxes and bottles in crates and cases of beer stacked in precarious towers, and then there were things that one might _not_ expect to see, and as Josh made eye contact with the man zip-tied to a chair in the middle of the room with a bar rag stuffed in his mouth, he thought this may possibly fall into the latter category.

“You tied-what the-who the hell-” Josh tripped over his own words, unsure of what question he’d like answered first before settling on, “ _-in my storeroom?_ ”

Tyler emerged from behind a stack of boxes, draping his blazer over a crate and tugging open the collar of his white dress shirt. As he slowly circled the tied-up stranger, Josh noticed for the first time that the man looked quite roughed-up; he had a bloody nose, and a nasty bruise blooming on his temple. It looked like the result of assault with a blunt object to Josh, like a blow to the head with a reinforced fist, but he hadn’t seen Tyler produce brass knuckles at any point, not even when they were both naked. More confused than ever, Josh watched Tyler cross the chair to stand in front of the man, before his eyes fell on Tyler’s fingers, fidgeting with his heavy silver watch as he’d done all evening. 

_Oh_. “Oh.” 

“What?” Tyler asked, redundantly. He knew.

“So _this_ is what you were doing when you said you were going to the bathroom? I thought you were meeting your date!” Josh hissed.

Tyler resisted the urge to laugh at him, leaning instead over the tied-up man. He braced himself on the arms of the chair on either side, speaking to Josh from over his shoulder. “I never said anything about a date. That was you, from the beginning.” Tyler turned his attention back to the man in front of him, who made a noise through the gag and attempted to avoid Tyler’s face a mere few inches away. He pulled his watch over his knuckles. “Pay attention now, Josh.” 

He didn’t want to pay attention. He didn’t want to see what sort of demented lesson Tyler had in store for him. He wanted to leave the room, the lounge, the city, but his legs were lead and Josh hated himself as he found his eyes glued to where Tyler stalked over the man. “Come on, is this really necessary?” He bargained anyway, half-hoping Tyler would listen but knowing it was pointless.

Unexpectedly, Tyler did pause. “Yeah, it is. He’s the lowest of the low. Trust me. We’re doing the world a favor.”

Josh wasn’t convinced. “Wait, I just think-" His sentence died as Tyler withdrew his fist and brought it down with a crack against the man’s jaw. His head slumped to the side before whipping back up, sputtering, teeth grinding into the gag and eyes seething.

Tyler brought down his fist again. This time the man pulled against his restraints, rattling the chair with a fury that took Josh aback. It was animalistic, rabid. Maybe Tyler was right. Even if he wasn’t, Josh knew he was helpless to stop him.

When Tyler pulled his fist back a third time, something in Josh’s brain galvanized him to action. He grabbed Tyler’s wrist. “What, are you going to kill him?” He demanded.

Tyler froze. Josh released his wrist and let his hand fall. “Not this time.” He chuckled darkly, “This was about sending a message.”

_“This was about sending a message._ Josh repeated under his breath, rolling his eyes. “Weren’t you the one who said cliches were dead?”

Thankfully, Tyler hadn’t heard him. He pulled the rag from the man’s mouth, dropping it in disgust. The man coughed once and then spat, mostly blood. Tyler fisted his hand in his hair and yanked his head back. “Message received?”

The man cracked into a toothy, blood-soaked grin, staring straight at Tyler as his hand tightened in his hair and pulled his head back even further. “It doesn’t matter what you do to me, it’s never going to stop.” Tyler groaned, exasperated, releasing the man’s hair. His chin fell to his chest as he spat another mouthful of blood. 

His head rolled heavily and Josh wondered how he was still conscious before he found himself locking eyes with the man. Like stepping through a cold shower, Josh’s blood turned to ice as the man stared at him, into him, through him, before speaking quietly. “You think he’s on your side?” Josh knew he meant Tyler. For whatever reason, that alone terrified him. “You have no idea, kid. You have no idea what’s coming, and it’s coming for you.”

Josh’s mouth opened, and closed, then opened again as he prepared to lunge forward and grab the man by the collar, demand he explain what he meant. Tyler stopped him, however, stepping between them quickly. “That’s enough.” 

The last sound Josh heard before it went black was the sickening crunch of metal on bone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stir in drama and cornstarch to Thicken The Plot
> 
> Just a short little thing to get the story moving but I'm excited for when I finally get to the meat and potatoes of this story 
> 
> (and the smut, i'm sorry, i am what i am)


	3. Need-To-Know pt. 1

The curtains waved lazily in the breeze from the cracked window as sunlight filtered through, running down the sides of bed and pooling on the floor. The wall clock ticked away the minutes the radiator spent quietly humming. The soft sway of the ceiling fan on the lowest setting gently churned the heavy air in the room.

The tiny zip of a fly. It landed on a finger. Walked around. Zipped away. Landed again. The finger twitched. Zipped away again. Landed on a face this time. 

Josh squeezed his eyelids, but kept them shut. Bringing up a hand, he sleepily batted the fly from his face before willing his eyes to finally open. His whole body felt heavy, a sandbag slowly melting into the pillowtop of the bed he was on. The bed?

His bed? He blinked out the light from his eyes until his vision was clear, clear enough to recognize the familiar walls, the familiar linens, and the familiar fucking asshole casually lounging in the doorway.

“Morning.” Tyler greeted simply. He didn’t even look up from his phone. 

Josh grunted. “What time is it?” He didn’t even pause to wonder why he’d lead with that question, instead of, maybe, _what the hell are you doing in my house?_

Tyler turned his screen off with a click, tucking his phone into his pants pocket. “Almost 4.” 

This time Josh groaned. “You said it was morning.” 

“Yeah well,” Tyler waved him off, peeling himself from the doorframe with one shoulder and turning to walk out. “Come downstairs when you’re ready. There’s coffee.” 

Swinging both legs over the side of the bed, Josh quickly raked a hand through his hair before calling after Tyler. “Wait, are you gonna tell me wh-” He was met by an empty doorway. “-what the hell is going on.” He finished, mumbling to himself with a sigh.

Downstairs, Josh found Tyler sitting at the table in his cramped kitchen, furiously scribbling something into a small notebook. He clicked his pen when he noticed Josh enter, snapping his notebook shut and tucking the pen into the cover in one fluid motion. 

Neither of them said a word as Josh walked to the counter, bare feet on cold tile. He could feel Tyler’s eyes on him as he picked up the empty coffee pot. “Thought you said there was coffee.” He grumbled.

“There is, you just have to make it.” 

Still hazy, Josh couldn’t find the mettle to reply or argue, so he might as well just make the damn coffee. The only sound the filled the small space was from the coffee maker as it dripped and steamed. Josh turned to lean against the counter with his back, hands bracing himself on the edge, head hanging loosely with his chin to his chest as he stared unfocused at the tile. Tyler busied himself with his notebook once again, pen scratching on paper. 

When the silence from the coffee maker became noticeable and the kitchen smelled roasted and delicious, Josh pulled himself out of his trance and withdrew a mug from the cabinet. He tentatively reached for another mug too, pausing to glance at Tyler.

“I don’t want any.” Tyler responded without looking up from his notebook. Josh put the mug back.

Three sips in, Josh tried again. “What happened to me last night?” He was surprised at himself for how even his voice sounded, how casual the question came across. A weird vibe rolled over him suddenly; this felt far too domestic, leaning against his kitchen counter in bare feet and pajama pants, sipping coffee and talking to Tyler as though they were discussing daily errands rather than...whatever.

Tyler continued to write, never stopping, never looking up. “Mm, you passed out.” He glanced up at Josh’s bewildered expression for half a second before shrugging it off. “Not unusual. This all takes some getting used to, don’t feel bad. I’ll explain. Give me a minute.” 

Josh pressed his lips together in a line before taking another sip. Question after question burned holes in his brain. Whatever Tyler was busy writing, whatever was in that notebook, it was going to give him answers. Finally. 

He was patient. It was a virtue Josh prided himself on. He set his mug down on the counter beside him carefully as he waited for Tyler’s attention, absently picking at the tie at the front of his pajama bottoms. A thought dawned on him suddenly, and Josh squawked a laugh out loud, earning himself a brief irritated glare from Tyler. “Did you change my clothes? While I was unconscious?”

“There was blood on them.” Tyler explained nonchalantly, trying to play it off, but Josh noticed his cheeks get the _slightest_ bit pinker. “What, are you worried about your modesty? Did you forget that we literally already f-”

“No, yeah, okay, no, I didn’t forget.” Josh felt his face radiating heat and cursed himself for being the easy blusher he knew he was. “Just asking.” He swallowed his blush down with a gulp of coffee.

Another minute ticked by, then another five. A bird landed on the sill of the tiny window above the sink. Josh watched it tap around on tiny feet. He finished his coffee.

Patience may have been one of his virtues, but Josh was not a saint. He felt himself grow frustrated as the minutes continued to tick by, and Tyler never stopped writing. 

Long after he’d finished his coffee, long after the bird on the windowsill flew away, long after every remaining strand of Josh’s patience flew away with it, Josh considered snatching Tyler’s stupid notebook from him and pushing him into the wall until his questions were finally answered. He came this close to doing exactly that when finally, _finally_ Tyler clicked his pen again, closed his notebook, and made to stand.

“Alright, well, I don’t care if you’re done or not but we really have to leave, we have a schedule to adhere to-" Tyler began, taking his phone out of his pocket.

Josh wasn’t having this. “Fine, whatever, but first for _christ’s sake_ just tell me what-”

Tyler ignored him, continuing. “-and there’ll be plenty of time to explain things later-” 

Josh couldn’t believe his ears. For that moment, he saw red.

He slammed his palm down so hard on the counter top that his spoon rattled inside his empty mug. “God damn it! No! I’m not fucking going anywhere with you until you tell me what the fuck is going on!” 

Tyler paused in his tracks. He calmly set his notebook down on the tabletop and placed his pen on top of it before rounding the table. He approached Josh until they were face-to-face, practically chest-to-chest; Josh fought the urge to recoil, lean away from Tyler’s face, which was now almost close enough for Josh to feel his warm breath as he stared holes into him. He resisted, standing his ground, firm as a mountain.

“You’re going to do what I say,” Tyler snarled, and Josh found it that much harder not to compromise his stony expression. “And we’re leaving.” 

“No.” 

“I can make you.” 

Josh’s jaw clenched, then unclenched. “I told you. I’m not going anywhere until you explain everything.”

Now it was Tyler’s turn to clench his jaw. Josh watched the muscles in his face work as silence passed between them. For a moment Josh thought Tyler was actually going to hit him, and yet he managed not to bow down. He would grow to take pride in this.

After the longest fifteen seconds of Josh’s life, Tyler finally spoke. “Fine.” He grated. “Sit down.” 

Josh drew out a chair from the table, scraping it against the tiles. Tyler sat across from him, watching him sit with folded arms. Josh mirrored Tyler’s body language, also folding his arms over his chest.

Tyler spoke again. “Ask your questions, but I’m under strict directions. Need-to-know only. You ask the wrong thing, you’re not getting an answer. Got that?"

Josh nodded.

Tyler continued. “What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start easy. Are we ever going to have sex again?”

Tyler barked a laugh. “That’s need-to-know.”

“Alright. Start with why my father assigned you to me.” 

Tyler kept his arms folded, answering curtly, “He’s worried about you.” 

Josh’s expression softened the slightest bit in surprise. “Why would he be worried about me?”

Tyler scoffed. “Look, I just take assignments I’m given. You want to talk about your family, see a counselor.” 

Josh pursed his lips at that. “Whatever. Okay, are you like my bodyguard?”

“I prefer mentor.” 

“What are you supposed to be teaching me? How to kill people, or what?”

Tyler took a moment before answering to consider. “More like how to survive.”

Josh let his arms uncross at that, throwing them up slightly at a loss. “But _why?_ I’ve made it this far, haven’t I? He knows I keep my damn distance from the family business, I hold my own, so why now?”

Tyler didn’t respond for a long time. Josh wondered if he’d asked the wrong question. 

Finally, he did. “Things are changing, Josh. Your family isn’t the only shark out there anymore, and there’s blood in the water.”

Josh stayed quiet for a moment, about to ask for clarification before Tyler continued, “What do you know about the other families?”

“Not much,” Josh admitted. He had purposefully stayed as far away from his father’s world as he could.

Tyler almost chuckled lowly. “Well they know you. Let’s just say, long story short, that there’s going to come a time when you’re going to need to finish what your father started, and it’s my job to make sure you’re ready when that time comes.”

“What did he start?”

“That’s need-to-know.”

Josh was relentless. “What are you saying? Someone’s coming for my father? That’s not exactly news, you’ve met him.” 

“It’s different this time. There’s someone new. I haven’t met them.” Tyler paused. “But I will.”

_He‘s a hitman._ Josh swallowed. “Fine. What’s in your notebook?”

Expecting a “need-to-know” reply, Josh wasn’t prepared for Tyler to open his notebook and turn to toward Josh on the table. 

Names, addresses, and numbers were scrawled in lists down the page in tiny, cramped handwriting, two per line. Names on names on names. “Are these-?”

Tyler nodded. “Yeah.” 

“Your targets?” Josh finished anyway.

He quickly wished he hadn’t when Tyler answered, “Our targets.” 

“What?”

As quickly as he opened it, Tyler snapped the notebook shut again. “Every name on that list is on there for a reason, and every name on that list is getting what’s coming to them. You’ll learn why for each one as we go. Which reminds me-” he tugged his sleeve up his wrist, checking his watch. Josh recognized it as the same watch he’d seen covered in viscera and embedded in a man’s cheekbone the night before. It made his stomach turn. “-we’re already behind, and you were supposed to start training today.”

Josh sank his head into his hands, running them through his hair over and over, summoning himself back to reality. “This is twisted." He repeated it several times, unsure whether he was trying to convince Tyler or himself. “This is demented. I can’t do this.” 

The sound of the chair legs scraping across the tile floor grated Josh’s brain again as Tyler stood, collecting his notebook and pen from the table top. His watch glinted in the sunlight as Tyler fastened his cuffs. Josh couldn’t tear his eyes away from the tiny fleck of brownish-red in the grooves of the faceplate, where Tyler hadn’t managed to clean completely.

“You don’t have a choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOD i had to split this chapter in half because it would've been huge otherwise, and I was just really eager to put out an update asap so i can keep working on it
> 
> "Will we ever have sex again?" spoiler alert yes. like literally in the second half of this godforsaken chapter


	4. Need-To-Know pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lessons begin harshly.

“When the waiter comes, remember to act casual. Order something simple.” Tyler muttered to Josh from over his menu, lips moving almost imperceptibly. Josh let his eyes wander along his own menu in hand, not giving any indication that he’d heard him. “On second thought, I’ll handle the entrees, it’s probably for the best.” 

Josh’s eyes flicked up to Tyler’s at that with a piercing glare, and he opened his mouth to give a retort before the waiter approached their table and he fell silent. “What can I bring you gentlemen tonight?” He asked cordially.

Before Tyler managed to get even a word out, Josh turned to the waiter and ordered pleasantly, “I think I’ll be having the Tajima Wagyu sirloin strip, please, cooked well, with the maple bourbon sweet potato accompaniment. If you could kindly ask the chef to go lightly with the aged blue this time, that would be much appreciated.” He finished, reaching across the table to pluck Tyler’s menu from his fingers. Josh handed the the waiter both menus with a smile, before adding, “And a charcuterie board with sopressata for the table, thank you.”

The waiter nodded, turning to Tyler, who blinked. “I’ll have the, uh, same.” 

With another nod, he left the two of them alone, Josh savoring the silence between them as he sipped from his wine glass. Tyler clasped his hands together on the tablecloth, leaning forward slightly. “I thought you said you stayed away from daddy’s business.” He hissed.

Josh laughed. “You make it sound like we’re restauranteurs.” He set down his glass gently and shrugged. “I do. But I can’t help the way I was raised, and my father has a taste for the finer things.”

“Clearly.” Tyler deadpanned.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Josh asked seriously. Tyler checked his watch quickly before tugging his sleeve back down and looking up.

“What?”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Josh’s mouth. “I think, besides the fact that you’re bitter that you’re not the only pretentious asshole around here anymore, I think you’re interested.” 

Tyler tilted his head slightly, back and to the side, mirroring Josh‘s small smirk before asking lowly, “Yeah? What am I interested in?”

“Maybe I’m more than just a job.” 

The snide laugh Tyler gave made Josh’s gut twist, but his face didn’t betray it. Tyler checked his watch again before answering. “No, you’re definitely just a job. Which reminds me of why we’re here.” 

All at once, Josh too was reminded of why there were there and it felt like icy sleet through his veins. His demeanor immediately changed, all flirtatiousness forgotten. “Who are you going t-” 

Tyler’s teeth gritted together and his upper lip curled up in almost a snarl. “Are you seriously. Going. To ask me that question. Out. Loud.” He grated, shooting Josh daggers with his eyes. 

Josh’s jaw snapped shut. “Sorry.” He apologized in a hushed tone.

Tyler’s body relaxed, falling back into his casual posture, back resting against the chair and legs crossed, a polite smile on his lips. Josh was about to ask again more discreetly before several platters were suddenly being placed in front of them, to his surprise; he hadn’t even heard the waiter approach.

“Is there anything else you gentlemen require at this time?” The waiter asked after setting down the wooden charcuterie board between them. 

Josh exchanged a glance with Tyler before politely declining and dismissing him. Tyler watched the waiter disappear into the kitchens, before turning back to Josh and picking his wineglass up from the stem. “Our host is very professional.” He smiled as he said it, taking a sip from his wine.

Confused, Josh agreed. “I guess? This is a very expensive res-”

The wineglass made a soft muted thump on the tablecloth when Tyler set it down again, smacking his lips quietly. “No. Our _host_ is very professional.”

Josh squinted in confusion before realization dawned on him and his eyes widened to the size of coins. “ _Him?_ Is he the-”

Tyler made a strangled half-cough, half-grunt noise and Josh dropped his voice to a sharp whisper, leaning all the way forward, as close to Tyler as he could come. “Tyler,” he hissed, “ _Are you going to kill our fucking waiter?_ ”

Busy wrapping a slice of prosciutto crudo around a piece of bread, Tyler bit into it with a crunch before answering. “Yes. I am. And you’re going to help me.” He picked up a knife and scooped up a corner of the pâté onto another piece of bread. His nonchalance as he ate was infuriating. Josh was certainly not hungry now.

“What did he do?”

Tyler popped an olive into his mouth. “You do know I only get paid for this, right? Not in information, just in money.” He sipped from his glass. “Lucky for you, your father _tips_ in information. Thought it’d be better for you if you knew the, uh, full circumstances.”

Choosing to ignore the bitter notion that his father took steps to ensure Josh had a better _learning experience_ while learning to kill people, Josh finally picked up his own fork, waiting for Tyler to continue.

And he did. “He’s not really a waiter. Or, at least, not just a waiter. Worked for your father in distribution, overseeing shipments.” Tyler cut himself a corner of gouda. Josh chewed slowly. “Last shipment, told a rep from another family where it was happening. They stormed the place, caught your guys, your dad’s guys, off guard, took the product, killed four.”

Josh blinked once, twice. “Our waiter did that?”

“I told you, he’s not really a waiter.”

Josh felt nauseated. “What’s his name?”

Tyler set his half-bitten baguette slice down on the edge of the plate, blinking for a moment. Josh thought maybe he forgot, before Tyler spoke quietly. “Names don’t matter. They’re just a way to find the target. Once you do, it doesn’t matter.”

He had to ask. “Why?”

As quickly as it’d left, Tyler’s cool indifference returned. He shrugged, taking a sip of wine, before looking up at Josh with a half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s just easier.”

After the not-waiter brought out their entrees (and Josh thanked him coldly this time instead of pleasantly, earning him a look from Tyler), they were able to finish their dinner comfortably in silence. Tyler didn’t speak presumably because he was too busy eating and checking his watch every other minute, but Josh didn’t speak because every other minute that Tyler checked his watch was another minute closer to the end of the dinner, and he so dreaded the end of the dinner.

Finally, it came time. “Let’s go.” Tyler ordered quietly, watching the waiter speak with a hostess before loosening his bowtie and disappearing into the back for the last time that evening. Josh followed Tyler on feet that weren’t his at the end of legs that weren’t his with his whole body feeling numb and unfamiliar. 

When Tyler strode straight through the double doors into the kitchen after the waiter with Josh on his heels and nobody to stop them, Josh realized that you really could get anywhere if you walked with enough purpose. They kept their distance until he left through the back exit, coat over his arm, before following him into the alley. Josh was on autopilot.

“Need a light?” Tyler called as he stepped out onto the pavement, ignoring the bite of cold night air. The alley was dark, narrow, and bare, save for a couple dumpsters that effectively shrouded them from view of the street at the end. The streetlights and traffic lights reflected off the wet rain-soaked asphalt as Tyler walked over to the man, who looked up at him with a cigarette between his lips.

“Thank you.” The man accepted, turning toward Tyler, who continued to walk up to him casually. Josh watched the events unfold in front of him as though he were watching a movie, barely present. He watched Tyler reach into his pocket, watched Tyler pull out a pair of black leather gloves, watched Tyler slip them on nimbly.

“No problem.” In an instant Tyler moved quickly enough to pin the man to the brick wall of the restaurant, elbow and forearm across his throat, holding him down. The man let out a noise of surprise and pain. Tyler spoke over him. “Actually, on second thought, we do have a problem. We have a big problem. By we, I mean you. You know William Dun?”

The man’s fingers clawed into Tyler’s jacket sleeve uselessly as he sputtered. “Josh.” Hearing Tyler’s voice call for him took Josh aback and the reality of his situation hit him like a sledgehammer. Intense panic rolled over him in waves. Tyler couldn’t possibly expect him to-

“Tyler. Tyler I can’t. I can’t, I really, really-” Josh was babbling. His heartbeat was defeaning in his ears. 

“Shut up, Josh. Go into my jacket pocket.” Tyler kept his elbow pressed firmly on the man’s throat, giving him just enough room to breathe for the time being.

Josh obeyed, walking over to where Tyler was and reaching into his coat. His fingers found keys, a phone, and a thin, coiled wire. Josh froze, a statue.

Tyler snapped him out of it. “Give that to me.” He did. Tyler took it with his free hand. Josh watched the trapped man’s fear reach its peak. Something lit inside his eyes that Josh couldn’t identify. He looked away.

Tyler noticed. “Watch, Josh. This is your first lesson. Hold him down for me.” 

For the brief second that Tyler let the man go, he fell forward, hands thrown out and grasping for something, anything. “Listen, listen, I didn’t know what was going to happen. I didn’t know they were going to do that. They offered me money, that’s all, for the location. That’s all it was. Please, please, don’t-” The non-waiter pleaded frantically, eyes meeting Josh’s in the darkness. “Don’t let him do this. Josh, right? Josh, don’t let him do this to me.” 

Josh stepped back slowly. His legs trembled, his mouth opened as words struggled to form. “I-I-”

“Please, Josh.” 

It was then that Tyler finally wound the garrote around his fists, descending on the man who barely managed one strangled cry before he was being pulled with his back to Tyler’s chest as he strangled him in the most intimate way possible. His hands flew to pick desperately at the wire around his throat, growing weaker as his muscles gave up and his throat went from choking, to sputtering, to wheezing, to silence.

A body slumped to the ground. Tyler stepped back, avoiding contact with his shoes. Josh’s stomach couldn’t take any more and he turned and braced himself against the wall with one arm, the other clutching his midsection as he vomited. 

A moment of nothing but the distant sound of cars driving over wet road and Tyler’s breathing condensating in icy swirls in the cold air passed before he finally spoke. “This is why we don’t use names.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am irredeemable garbage for this but at least i didn't combine the smut chapter with the murder chapter like i originally planned. I'm sorry !! this 2 part chapter is now a 3 part chapter bcuz it's long and i'm just trying to geaux with the fleaux


	5. I Didn't Need To Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silence comes after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's smut but also other stuff sorry

Tyler’s clever fingers turned the dial on the radio, flipping between stations as he drove. It was late, the streets were basically empty, and Josh felt as though he were floating in a state of suspended reality. As though the only moving parts left in the whole world were the yellow streetlights casting shadows like bats in the car as they drove under them, Tyler’s hand on the radio and his eyes on the road, and the small gold cross on a chain draped over the rear-view mirror, swinging gently.

Tyler turned the radio off. The silence that befell the car apart from the hum of the engine was louder than if he’d left it on. Dropping his hand to rest on the gear shift between them, Tyler never broke eye contact with the road. Josh was grateful for that; it made pretending he was okay that much easier. 

“Are y-” Tyler began suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence, ripping Josh from his own head.

“I’m fine.” He lied sharply. 

“I was going to ask if you were cold.” Tyler’s fingers played with the temperature dial now, adjusting it uselessly. Josh suspected he just needed something to do.

Josh was in no position to provide Tyler with that, with anything. He didn’t want to, he didn’t care to, and he wasn’t going to. He allowed himself to be hypnotized by the street signs flying past and the black, damp road. 

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, which Josh was also grateful for. Tyler pulled the car smoothly in front of Josh’s building and parked it, leaving the engine running. Josh sat for another moment in silence on Tyler’s expensive leather seats, waiting (hoping) for the pieces of himself left back in that alley to catch up to him. 

When Tyler gave a little cough, Josh realized it meant for him to get out. He swiftly unbuckled his seatbelt and made to leave, before a hand closed around his wrist. It was not hostile, there were no fingers clamped around his arm, but it was firm, insistent. Warm.

Josh looked up from his wrist to Tyler’s face. Tyler’s brows were knitted and his jaw was set, and Josh could almost hear his brain humming as he sought the right words.

They didn’t seem to be coming, so Josh saved him. “Do you, I mean, do you want to come up?” _Please come up with me._

Tyler didn’t respond, but Josh noticed some of the tension melt from his face as he turned off the engine and took the keys out of the ignition. As if on cue, the valet attendant gently tapped a knuckle against the window.

Josh stepped out of the car and onto the pavement as Tyler handed the keys to the attendant. Shoulders stiffening, he tugged his coat tighter around his body when he felt the cold air pierce him. His fingers were numb and freezing; Josh hadn’t realized how tightly he had been clenching his hands the entire drive over. He didn’t think he’d had them unclenched since the restaurant. 

Tyler rounded the car as it was driven away, tucking both hands into his coat pockets as he stepped to catch up to Josh. The doorman graciously welcomed them both into the elegant lobby, and the pinch of anxiety Josh felt at Tyler being seen by so many different people at Josh’s home did not show on his face as Josh returned the smile and greeting with the same warmth.

Inside the elevator, the silence between them continued, broken only by Tyler asking, “What floor?” to which Josh responded, “Fourteenth,” and that was all.

Josh wondered if he should be speaking, or crying. Maybe screaming. Maybe fisting both hands into the lapels of Tyler’s jacket and slamming him into the wall, before slamming his fist into his cheekbone for making him a party to this, whatever this was. A lifetime of deliberate distancing from a world Josh was desperately trying to avoid, only to end up here, on the way up to his own home with blood on his shoe and a murderer at his shoulder. 

The bell dinged. Josh stepped onto the landing, shoes clacking on the polished tile floors. Tyler followed. Josh opened the door to his apartment. Tyler followed.

Anger seemed appropriate. Even crying would have been appropriate. What Josh didn’t expect from himself was exactly what he was giving right now: total silence. Total silence, and the completely inexplicable, _appalling_ desire to not send Tyler away or back to hell where he came from, but instead to have him close, and then closer.

Then extremely close. As soon as the door shut heavily behind them, Josh lunged onto Tyler, devouring his mouth with his own with such force it knocked the air out of Tyler’s lungs with a solid gasp. His hands found Tyler’s coat lapels and tugged them like he’d longed to do, but in different context. Or perhaps the same context. Josh couldn’t identify the line between fury and passion anymore, and the longer he spent with his tongue tracing Tyler’s teeth, the less he found he cared. The less he _thought_. About anything.

Josh dropped his keys somewhere onto a side table in the foyer, never disconnecting from Tyler’s mouth as he maneuvered him by his coat to where he pleased. Tyler grunted as his back hit the wall, but didn’t make to move Josh off him. In fact, as Josh moved to kiss from his lips to his cheek to the side of his neck, Josh found that Tyler actually melted into him. It was different from the last time, it felt different. Josh wondered if Tyler’s malleability was for him, if this was an act of apology, or even comfort.

“You’re so hot,” Josh muttered into Tyler’s neck, cliche be damned. Tyler panted, breath thin and ragged, leaning his head back to give Josh the best access. Josh took it greedily, kissing and biting from his ear to his shoulder, across his adam’s apple and to the other side. 

He used his grip on Tyler’s coatfront to push it off his body, dropping it around his feet. “That’s a $3000 jacket.” Tyler said breathily. 

Josh kicked it aside with his feet. “I’ll buy you a new one.” 

He grunted as his hands slid down Tyler’s sides to his hips, to his thighs and lifted him up smoothly, hoisting him around his waist. Tyler gave a sharp gasp and bit down on Josh’s shoulder harder than he meant to when he felt their groins meet.

“Are we gonna make it out of the entranceway?” Josh asked throatily into Tyler’s skin, emphasizing his question with a slow grind of his hips. 

Tyler made a thin noise at the dull friction as one of his hands left Josh’s shoulder. “I’m fine either way,” he hummed and began to pull at his own collar, loosening his tie, “As long as you don’t ruin any more of my clothes.”

Josh stopped him, closing his hand over Tyler’s. “Wait, keep it on.” He grunted into Tyler’s ear. 

Tyler lifted his head to look at him, expression as hard as always despite the flush on his tanned cheeks and slightly swollen pout. “What, are you serious?”

Josh let go to grip his thighs tightly with both hands, hoisting him up higher on his body. “Deadly.” He said, picking Tyler up from the wall and carrying him through the luxurious living room with surprising ease. Tyler was left with no space to argue before he was being dropped on his back onto a steel grey lounge in the middle of the room. They faced a wall of high windows and Tyler was momentarily captivated by the lights of the city sprawling before them before Josh stalked over him and claimed his attention again.

Somewhere along the line, Josh had shed his own coat and shoes and was left in pants and his shirt, collar unbuttoned and tie still done but hanging loosely like Tyler’s own. He dipped his head and found Tyler’s throat again, sucking marks into the skin as he braced himself over him.

The feeling of Tyler breathing hot again his own neck sent shivers down Josh’s spine, and when his hands found Josh’s belt buckle it kicked his brain into overdrive. Josh let his hips drop, trapping Tyler’s hands between their bodies, effort to undo Josh’s buckle forgotten as Josh ground against him once, twice, all delicious friction and teeth still nibbling on delicious skin.

“H-holy shit,” Tyler slurred, knees falling further apart automatically. Josh kept a rhythm on him, content just to tease for a minute. It was enough just to hear Tyler’s breath struggle to leave his throat, feel him hard against himself through his pants, until it wasn’t.

Josh tugged impatiently at Tyler’s zipper with one hand. “Get this off,” he muttered under his breath as Tyler’s hands came to help. Tyler wriggled and pushed his dress pants down to mid-thigh, before reaching up and helping Josh do the same. 

Josh met Tyler’s lips again harshly as he wasted no time in slipping his hand under the waistband of Tyler’s slightly dampened underwear. Tyler grunted softly into Josh’s mouth when his hand gripped his base, then moaned when his thumb pressed against the underside of his head. 

The noises Josh elicited from Tyler via his hand were as energizing as cocaine, and twice as addicting. He stroked Tyler as best he could with the awkward angle, precum slicking his way down and filling the room with a wet sound that only made Josh harder. When he began twisting his wrist on the upstroke, Tyler canted his hips up and gave such a needy moan that Josh thought for a moment he’d ended it too soon.

“How do you want me?” Josh asked lowly against Tyler’s lips. He was impartial, the most easy-going switch in the world, and if Tyler wanted to top him again then Josh would be on his hands and knees or his back or any way Tyler wanted. He didn’t care, he just needed this. He just _needed_.

Tyler’s eyes were half-lidded as he rolled his head back, sinking further into the expensive cushion. “You, on me.” He clarified, to Josh’s mild surprise, “You can top. Just fuck me.”

At that, Josh pushed himself off of Tyler, who propped himself up on his elbows and gave him a confused, slightly hurt look. “Relax,” Josh assured, “I’m just going to grab some stuff.”

Tyler nodded and fell back onto the cushion. When Josh returned to see him exactly as he’d left him, except with a hand shoved down his pants squeezing his own dick, he nearly dropped the condom and lube he’d retrieved from the bedroom. 

“I gotta-I gotta take these off now,” Josh pulled Tyler’s pants down his legs and off, trying not to laugh at the absurdity of Tyler still wearing a crisp white dress shirt and tie while behind completely bare below the waist. 

“I thought you wanted to leave the clothes on.” Tyler said sarcastically, but was quickly silenced by Josh pressing one lubed finger to his entrance.

“Is this alright?” Josh asked softly into Tyler’s hip, holding him down with a hand.

“Yeah that’s, god, that’s fine-aaaah,” Josh pressed harder into Tyler’s hip to hold him down when he twitched upward as Josh breached him up to the knuckle. 

It took one finger to get Tyler to gasp, two curling inside him to get him to whimper, and three to get him to sob. Josh cataloged every sound he made.

Most importantly, it took three fingers curling inside him and Josh’s lips kissing his hip and stroking his thigh to get Tyler to beg. Hand squeezing tightly around the base of his cock, Tyler threw his head back and lifted it up to look at Josh repeatedly before words came spilling from his lips.

“I’m fine, I’m ready, just get on with it, fuck. Fuck me, Josh, just fuck me already,” he repeated, “Please, Josh.”

_“Please, Josh.”_

_“Please, Josh.”_

A man begging with his last fews breaths for his life. A man already pale as the grave and sick with fear begging Josh for his life with the hollowness in his voice of a man who knew he was about to die anyway. A damned man in a disgusting alley, clinging desperately to his last breaths, knowing he was flying through his last moments, choosing to use his last sentence to beg Josh, by name, for his life.

Using his last sentence to beg Josh, personally, from one terrified human to another, for his life.

Using his name, Josh, to beg him for his life.

His name. Josh.

Josh.

“Josh,”

_“Josh-”_

_“Josh!”_

He didn’t know how he’d gotten to the floor, but he was there now. Josh’s back slumped against the couch, knees pulled up to his chest. Tyler knelt in front of him, holding both his hands by the wrists in front of his face. His underwear was back on. Josh didn’t know any time had passed.

Josh was gasping. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t get air. His chest felt concave, kicked in. He drew breath after breath but none seemed to reach his lungs. He wondered if he was dying.

“Am I dying?” Josh asked, apparently; he didn’t feel his mouth form the words, but he heard his voice. “Am I dying?”

“You’re not dying. You’re here, you’re alive.” Tyler sought to meet Josh’s eyes but it felt impossible. Josh stared right through him. “Are you listening to me? You’re alive.”

“I can’t do this. I can’t, I-” The voice that must have been Josh’s kept talking. “I can’t do this. Can’t, I can’t. I’m. I can’t.”

Unexpectedly, Tyler released Josh’s trembling wrists and wrapped his arms tightly around Josh’s back, pulling him into his chest. “It’s okay. It’s fine.”

His hand was warm, soothing, grounding as it ran up and down Josh’s back slowly as he continued to heave, struggling to normalize his breathing. Tyler rested his chin atop Josh’s head.

”It‘s okay.” He promised. 

“It’s okay.” He repeated. 

“It’s going to be okay.” He lied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like i said sorry
> 
> thanks to anyone who left comments including the ones urging me to update, and that ain't even sarcasm i legit appreciate it and it makes me write faster lmao

**Author's Note:**

> dicks out for my first multi-chap


End file.
